The Risk Series 1: A Miscalculated Risk
by KSPretenderFan
Summary: Zoe Morgan calculates risk everyday and on whether or not to take it. What happens when she completely miscalculates said risk? Part 1 in the Risk Series.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: First fanfic ever. Thanks to SassyJ and Rose Griffes for beta'ing and suggestions. **

**Chapter 1:**

She walked into the bar after a long night of rubbing elbows with all the players in Manhattan. It was twelve-thirty a.m. and she's been up since dawn. Zoe Morgan, professional adjudicator or fixer, discretely uses both her connections to powerful people as well as her plethora of contacts to smooth over problems for corporate clients, public figures, and her own clients.

It had taken her years to cultivate her persona of being a power broker of information. She's a hunter of sorts, training herself to know her quarry every which way. She watched, she observed, she knew her prey inside and out. Zoe was happy with her job, relished being several steps ahead of her prey. She calculates risk everyday and on whether to take it or not. What her clients do with the information, she normally didn't care.

That is, until some soldier in a suit came and saved her from her imminent demise. And in an instant, she started to question the very thing that made her world go round. Knowledge is the key. Control came in a very close second. At what point should she care what that knowledge and control mean? The threat to her life didn't come as a total surprise. In her line of work, it was inevitable. High powered people didn't like to be pushed in a corner. Although always careful, she wasn't invincible, but she sure as hell didn't see herself as a damsel in distress.

Some days, keeping up the façade was difficult. Trying to be steps ahead of anyone and everyone, though enjoyable, can be taxing. Her plan was always to have the upper hand, always have something to trade and always look for an angle. Negotiate for what you want. That was one of the reasons she went to law school. One of the reasons she was able to afford the apartment she lived in. She persevered until she got what she wanted.

She's tired. No, she's exhausted. Too bone weary and stretched to her limit she wanted nothing more than peace, silence, if only for tonight. Needing to wind down before going home, she had impulsively stopped at this bar on her way home. She knew the bartender and its close enough to her apartment.

She can't ignore the phone when it rings. The display reads _Unknown Caller. _It wasn't her custom to answer blocked calls, but at this time of night, it's probably a crisis, one that she normally would use to the best advantage. With a sigh, she sits at the bar and answers the phone. "Zoe Morgan."

"Zoe . . . "The soft, raspy voice that greeted her was distinctive. It was none other than Rambo.

"John."

"How about I buy you that drink?"

Smiling to herself, she agreed. Curiosity was always her problem, what happened to his date the journalist? What the hell. "Sure. Where - - ?" She starts to ask but is interrupted by the click of the phone indicating that the call had ended. Out of the corner of her eye, she sensed a presence beside her.

"Hello John."

Awhile later, they had their drinks sitting next to each other at the bar. They had talked about anything and everything from politics to the weather but nothing of importance. Nothing personal was discovered by either one of them. Both of them were still playing this song and dance close to the vest.

As she was taking another sip of her drink she asked. "What happened to Maxine?" Thinking about the journalist he was on a "date" with under the guise of protecting her a few days back.

"She dumped me. Said she was married to her job and that I was still hung up on you."

Not expecting that answer, Zoe almost choked on her drink. She caught herself in time and ended up letting out a hoot, yes a hoot, of laughter. "You're hung up on something alright, it just isn't me."

Smirking he just gave her a curious look.

"John, you're a warrior with true devotion. Protecting the weak and innocent is your atonement for past sins, whether they are yours or not. Every time you save a life, you silence the demons and slay your dragons."

"Dragons and demons? This isn't fantasy . . . This is reality."

"I know that John." To soften the blow of the words she's going to tell him, she put her hand on his arm.

"Someone told me once that I should consider a new line of work. I could say the same to you, but knowing what you think about that, I'll just give you some free advice. You can't set yourself off from the things that make life normal. Friends, connections, no one can live without those. Otherwise, you're going to burn out and not care."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself Zoe?" John asked knowing full well that she was much like he. She had set herself apart from a "normal" life. She and John didn't really have anything that tethered them to the world. No connections, meaningful ones anyway.

With a self-deprecating smile, she shook her head. "I know, pot calling the kettle black right?" She shrugged. "I don't put my life on the line for other people John. I always watch out for myself. I'm no damsel that needs a knight to slay her dragons."

She stood up, signaling that their drink was over. It's late, or rather early in the morning. "Walk me home John." He nodded his agreement, paid their tab, and walked with her out of the bar and into the night.

They walked in companionable silence the one city block to her apartment. When they got to the steps of her apartment building, she took the step above the street and turned to look at John so they were eye to eye. She reached for John's face and placed a tender kiss on his lips. She pulled back a little to gage his reaction. Leaning in to deepen the kiss, she was relieved to find that he was receptive. Taking advantage of his acquiescence, she stroked his lips demanding entry to his mouth. He surrendered, rubbing his tongue against hers as he fought for control, sharing the kiss both had craved. Zoe's arms went up to clasp around John's neck. Her mouth remained anchored to his as she felt rather than heard the wordless murmur of desire in his throat.

Gently, she put a halt to their kisses, Zoe caressed his face. "It doesn't have to be a grand love affair, John." She stated. Not knowing if either of them was the type for grand love affairs. She certainly wasn't. "Sometimes people just want company, someone to pass the time with for a while. A relationship doesn't have to be a lifetime commitment to have value."

She kissed him softly one more time then started to go into her apartment building. "You have my number." She stared meaningfully at him. _When . . . if you're ready_. She silently added walking into her apartment building.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

She'd just lowered herself into her tub relaxing and for the first time that night/morning, was finally able to let her guard down. Leaning back she closed her eyes, only for them to pop open when her phone chirps, informing her that she has a text message.

_Been thinking about what you said. Want some company? J_

_10 minutes. Meet you at door. Z_

Although, Zoe thought, he didn't need a key to come in. She still liked her privacy, at least some semblance of it, looking at the clock she noted that was 1:30 in the morning. _Jesus_. _I'm not twenty-two anymore_. It had been forever since she's pulled an all-nighter without it being about business.

She put on a short robe, her hair still wet from the quick shower she had to take, padded barefoot to the front door.

"Hello again, John," Zoe greeted with a smirk not appearing the least bit surprised to see him back so soon after they parted. Although in truth, she was surprised.

"Zoe." Reese replied.

His eyes grazed over her figure as she turned and walked back into her apartment. He assumed that not many have seen her dressed the way she is at the moment. Without her usual armor of a sharp business suit or dress, stilettos, perfectly coiffed hair, she didn't look like her usual persona. She looked fresh, vulnerable, and much like he would have thought the young girl from Yonkers would look. The only thing left of her façade was the alluring half smile that seemed to always grace her lips.

"Did you want something to drink?" Zoe asked.

John smiled a small smile. "I didn't come here for a drink." He said as he looked around and noticed that Finch was right. There were no personal effects that could be seen around her home. The furniture was expensive but functional, nothing that screamed "ZOE" or that the home was lived in. She, much like himself and Finch had closed herself off from anyone and everyone. No attachments, physical or otherwise. He wondered if her bedroom was different, he sat on the sofa and casually leaned back.

Quirking a brow, she slowly walked towards him and straddled his lap. "And what pray tell could you have come here for?" She asked coyly as she took her robe off and let it drop from her shoulders.

As a response to her question, he smiled the same smile he flashed when they broke into the office building and she had quipped that he was the kind of guy that could get out of anything with a paperclip. God, what a smile. She shut her eyes for a moment, as he reaches his hand to softly touch her right breast. It was such a gentle touch that she was almost shocked by it. The gentleness came as quite a surprise, unexpected, confusing. _Damn it. _

She dealt with the confusion the only way she knew how to, by taking control. Trying to maintain the upper hand she divested him of his suit jacket and shirt. She watched and was fascinated as he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles softly. John slowly darted his tongue out, flicking each of her fingers. Watching him Zoe realizes it was one the most sensual things she'd ever seen. His lips wrapped around her middle finger, softly sucking on it, and she felt herself become wet as she thought to herself. _"Well, that's not taking control. Oh my god, what is he doing to me?"_

Before Zoe could reciprocate in one form or another, John snaked his fingers through her hair and pulled her toward him. She offered no resistance as John kissed her softly, ghost-like. No man she'd ever been with was this gentle. A power broker did not inspire gentleness, but inspired nothing more than taking or claiming rather than giving. But John, he wasn't rough or greedy, although she was positive he could be. He was tender. The way he moved his mouth over hers was slow, teasing, and amazing. Her lips easily parted for him as his tongue brushed against them.

His kiss felt more than just a kiss. Mere words couldn't describe it. It was almost as if he was making love to her mouth. To her hair, the way he ran his hands through it. _This was supposed to be just sex, damn it again!_ No grand romances she had said, but certainly not this either. She didn't know when it happened, but somehow she felt vulnerable with John. This new feeling was a paradox to her. It brought on fear, yet was comforting at the same time. John made her feel safe. Safe to be who she really was, inside, behind the façade.

John continued to move his lips against hers, his tongue still deep into her mouth. She realized that she wanted this man, John. She wanted him to fill her senses like no one ever had because she had never let anyone in before. Not like this. It had been too much, she had been too afraid of the loss of control that she had shut off her emotions for too long. Breaking the kiss, she looked at John. "Take me to bed," she whispered, so quietly, even she could barely hear it.

He stared at her, his eyes scanning her face, her body. For a moment, she thought he would say no or put a stop to it. But he didn't. His arm moved under her knees as he stood, lifting her in his arms. She had never been a fan of the whole sweeping her off her feet business, hence the "I'm no damsel" comment at the bar. Never being one to dream of princesses being whisked off by her prince, she had always felt it was a tad chauvinistic and to her mind, just plain stupid. But not at that moment, being in John's arms felt good. It felt right. She stared into his eyes as he carried her towards her bedroom. His eyes had become dark and hypnotic. The way he looked at her and touched her was so sensual. She didn't think anyone had ever been that close to making her come, just kissing her, as he did.

His blue eyes stared at her chocolate browns. "Are you sure about this?" He asked as they reached the bed and gently sets her on top of it.

Laughing softly, she reached up and pulled his body onto the bed with her. "I barely have a stitch of clothing on, what do you think?" No one had ever asked her if she was sure before. His simple question endeared him to her.

He smiled that breathtaking smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

She touched her lips gently to his, butterfly kisses at first; the kisses that followed however grew more demanding than the last. Breaking away from her mouth, he caressed her neck, shoulders, and breasts with his eyes. As his right hand reached up, and lovingly stroked her neck and throat, she felt a flutter in her stomach.

His mouth laid feather light kisses on her neck, brushes against her throat then onto her shoulder. Zoe's breathe caught in her throat as he continued to leave a path of wet kisses on her skin from her breasts all the way to her stomach. His soft gentle kisses made her moan quietly, her eyes shutting. Zoe was surprised to hear small noises coming from her. She has never been a vocal lover, at least not like this. Apparently John brought it out of her and so much more.

John smiled and leaned into the hand she had lifted to touch his face. That movement so small, spoke volumes and caused her to catch her breath. She bit her lip and watched, fascinated as he trailed a hand over her breasts once more. John's hands slid up and massaged her thighs and continued moving over her hips, and down her backside, taking the time to enjoy the feel of her well toned derriere. Every touch to her body was tender soft, and her back arched toward him. She heard herself whispering his name as slowly, her hand moved to his hair and she started to pull on his undershirt. Not knowing when the tables had turned on her and she lost control of the whole escapade.

He stopped what he was doing to look at her. "Don't" he said. "Let me." Brushing his lips against hers in a soft, fast kiss, he smiled. "It's okay to give up control once in a while Zoe." He told her, as if he had read her mind. He gently cupped one breast, kneading it and stroking the erect nipple with his thumb. He brought his mouth to her breast and began nipping and sucking, applying just the right amount of pressure.

As he gently started to pull her panties down over her hips and thighs, she took one of his hands, and placed it on her. He grunted in pleasure as his hand felt her naked heat. She began rubbing him through his trousers as she felt one of his fingers gently press into her, and gasped as, at the same time, the tip of his tongue flicked over the hard peak of her nipple. He did it again, and again, quick, almost sharp licks, but still so ultimately tender.

As he continued to nip and lick at her chest, her back arched towards his mouth as his hand moved under her to hold her close. "John," she whispered with a raspy voice, sounding foreign to her. His eyes met hers, while that tongue of his ran slow circles around her nipple. "John." She whispered again, feeling his lips curve into a smile.

He finally sat back and removed his shirt allowing her to admire his body. She sat up and she looked at his scarred upper body and saw nothing but beauty. The physical work he'd done in the past was good for his physique. His chest showed it perfectly as well as his ridged abdomen. Though she tried not to linger on the scars, she was fascinated by them gently running her fingers over them and kissing a few. She smiled a small smile and simply says "Beautiful, John." _What?_ Did that just come out of her mouth? He looked away trying to hide the redness creeping up his neck. _How cute, Rambo blushes._ Did she just think "cute?" _Jesus, what is going on here?_ Puppies and butterflies weren't supposed to be in the cards.

By his movements, she knows he has taken off his trousers, socks, and shoes. As he lay back against her, she felt his hardness pressing against her. Silk boxers? That came out of left field. It fit somehow, but she never would have guessed.

"I want to kiss you . . . "He whispered in her ear, his hand moving between her legs towards her wetness. The touch was so feather light, she whimpered. It was yet another sound that had never come out of her. He was at her side, his fingers continuing to stroke her, occasionally dipping inside, then swirling her wetness. As her head fell deeper into the pillows, she bit her lip for a beat, realizing that he was asking for permission. She opened her eyes caressed his face and kissed him. She nodded her permission meaning it and trusting him.

As John was slowly applying the most wonderful pressure on her most sensitive spot, Zoe's moans matched each lick and nibble. Goodness, the things this man could do with his mouth. He was as talented with his mouth as he was with a damn paperclip. _Oh Lord_. Zoe groaned in pleasure and pain as release finally came to her. John's eyes fixated on Zoe's head that was thrown back in ecstasy.

As her breathing slowed, John lay close to her, raining kisses all over her face. Moving away for a bit, John removed his boxers. Rising to his knees next to her, he parted her legs, wanting to be inside her, knowing her in the most intimate manner. He carefully lay between her legs and pushed gently into her. Slowly, allowing her to adjust to his girth. As John eased his hips forward again, he was consumed with the tightness that was Zoe. He continued to lightly kiss her lips as he slowly pushed into her until he fully penetrated her.

John stilled his movements allowing Zoe be completely comfortable, enjoying her tightness surrounding him. She let him know she was ready by kissing him. John then began the rhythmic movements as old as time. Slowly John pulled his hips back almost all the way then pushed back gently into her. Keeping the slow rhythm, he pulled back, and pushed down. Long, deep, slow thrusting and pulling. Zoe never thought she liked slow and gentle, until tonight. As Zoe's moans began to deepen, John matched his thrusts to them increasing the speed of his movements. It didn't take long for Zoe to climax taking him with her.

* * *

It was when John was in the bathroom cleaning up that Zoe realized that she was wide of the mark. The tables had been surreptitiously turned on her. Instead of being the seducer, she became the seduced. Instead of being the controller, she was controlled. And she had gladly succumbed to it without thought. Her own hubris was her downfall; she had completely miscalculated the effect of gentleness, his gentleness had on her. Hell, it never even fit into the equation.

_Zoe. _She thought to herself. _You are in so much trouble._


End file.
